To Trust a Friend
by YumYumJava
Summary: Brom has not been killed, and he has taken on a father like role to Eragon. Eragon is struggling with his feeling of duty to the people of Alagaesia, his feelings for Arya, and he burden he feels has been unwillingly put on him. Lots more to come. R
1. Friends and Family

**Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with the Eragon books or Movie, at all!!! I only wish I did. There are a few characters in this story that are fictional.**

**A/N: I'm not sure where I'm going with this. Probably some Eragon/Arya, the next chapter begins around the middle of the movie, and there are a lot of things I've played around with. Like Brom living… so let me know where to go with it. I really want to try a Brom/Eragon father son thing too. Sooooooo R&R please. Sorry so short.**

**TO TRUST A FRIEND**

Chapter 1

It had been years since he'd been on a dragon. Now Brom had become the tutor of a brave young man, who, while headstrong in his ways, was

more than willing to learn. Night after endless night, visions and memories plagued his dreams. Fears that his own apprentice would be swayed by

Galbatorix, memories of his own failure and arrogance, his pride that took the life not only of a traitor, but of a beloved dragon. This was last of the

great beasts he had thought, save for the king's, until a young hunter, who tended a farm with his uncle in the settlement he had taken refuge in to hide

in shame, brought the time of the dragon riders upon him again. To Brom, this was not only hope for a peaceful future, but a chance to redeem

himself if not in the eyes of the Varden and riders he had left behind, but in his own eyes as well.

He knew with every ounce of his being that Eragon was the last hope at victory, and the defeat of the king. These were truths that everyone and

anyone who still had faith in the dragon riders knew. What had shocked him the most, was that the exceptional young man who had reluctantly

become a rider, had filled the place in his heart, of the son he never had.

"Eragon,?" Brom gently nudged the sleeping, snoring, lump that was his apprentice, "We have to get moving before dawn." he urged more aggressively.

"I already brought the eggs in Roran," Eragon grumbled and rolled over on his side.

Saphira sensing the urgency in Brom's voice slowly made her way to the camp, doing her best to make as little noise as possible. Lightly she nuzzled

her nose in the still quiet Eragon's neck.

_"You must get up now, little one," she spoke, her tone soft. "You've already overslept."_

"Saphira!" the young man groaned in his mind and after a few more prods from the insistent dragon, made his way down to the stream to wash up and get water to boil.

"I'm not going to let either one of you forget this," Eragon complained as he trudged up the bank of the stream with an old tin kettle for the fire that Brom had already

started.

"We can't spend too much time here, the rumors of the Shadeslayer are spreading quickly and I fear \we must join Arya in Ellesmera," Eragon sighed, feeling that his victory against

Durza both a blessing and a curse.

"Galbatorix will only see this as a reason to retaliate. Opposition of any kind is not acceptable to him." Brom sat stroking the rough stubble of his beard, deep in thought.

_"You are wiser, and stronger than you give yourself credit for, Eragon. You have given the Varden hope, when they had none." Saphira tried to sound soothing._

"I have told you before, I will not be strong enough, until I am as strong as you," it came as a white hot flash in Saphira's mind.

"They trusted my leadership only because they had no one else, not because I'm wise, or...Oh, forget it Saphira. I'm just tired that's all." he truly felt doubt sinking in now.

_"You must trust yourself, before you can expect trust from others, young one. In time you will gain the confidence you need to be a true leader."_

**So that's where I'm at, I think there will be a lot more soul searching on the way to Ellesmera, what do you think?**


	2. The Road to Ellesmera

_Top of Form_

_**Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with the Eragon books or Movie, at all!!! I only wish I did. There are a few characters in this story that are fictional.**_

_**A/N: So here's the next chapter, I'm pretty sure where I'm going with it now, but any feedback would be good. Enjoy. R&R!**_

**Chapter2**

From early dawn, until nightfall they rode through dense fog, stopping only to eat and water their horses. Now, on the slope of a mountain, they prepared to make camp as exhaustion set in. Saphira had been circling above them for most of the day, keeping a lookout for danger, and occasionally allowing herself the luxury of twirling through a cloud, or basking in the sunlight that radiated down from above.

Most of the day had been spent in quiet reflection, both Brom and Saphira allowing young Eragon to work out his troubles alone and in solitude. It was the best way they believed mutually, for the boy to come to terms with the responsibilities that had been bestowed upon him, without needing to say a word. So as they wandered ever closer to Ellesmera, with Saphira scouting above for a secluded area for the night, Eragon reflected on the thoughts that had kept him so quiet and aloof throughout the day.

* * *

"You know," said Brom, cautiously, "Every rider goes though many of the same emotions that you are experiencing." He continued, waiting for the backlash, but instead of an angry tirade, he received only a confused and complacent stare from Eragon.

"You know it's not the same for me as it was for you," the boy stated bluntly, as if no other explanation were due.

"Is that correct, Eragon? I won't begin to assume you wish to elaborate." Brom glanced sadly at the young rider, truly knowing all too well what he was feeling. Eragon allowed himself a moment to collect his wandering thoughts.

"It's just that when you were a rider," he hesitated, "well I guess you are **still** a rider," again he hesitated, treading lightly on his words, "If you made the wrong choice, or if your decisions were poor, you had others to fall back on. If I mess up, it's me. Only me!" Eragon caught himself before his voice got any louder. He was letting fear and frustration get the better of him and he knew it needed to stop.

"If that is the way you see it, then I must have been a fool to go around carrying this guilt with me for so many years. There would have been much better uses for my time. However, since you see it that way I suppose I must have been a fool and perhaps it should be you teaching me the ways of the dragon rider and not the other way around," he looked to his companion thoughtfully, choosing not to notice the angry tears that were forming in the young man's troubled blue eyes. "It looks like Saphira has found us a place to camp. Let's join her quickly. I will need my rest if I am to begin learning lessons from you tomorrow," he said with a smirk, and galloped off to meet up with Saphira, leaving Eragon on his own to sulk.

* * *

Eragon silently fumed. How dare he belittle me like that? How dare he sit there and mock my feelings, pretend to understand the unfairness of the responsibilities put only on me, compare his experiences with my own?

"He is a selfish, arrogant, coward!" Eragon screamed to Saphira. "He has no right and no knowledge of what it's like to be me. None at all. And to make it worse he mocks me, as though I haven't stood by him through everything, with blind trust Saphira. Complete and total, blind trust!" he seethed.

"_And he has trusted you, not only with his life, but with the lives of so many people, including my own. He is only trying to make you understand how difficult this life can be, and prepare you for it. He will not be with you forever, and he doesn't want to see you make the same mistakes he has made. He cares a great deal for you and only want to see you succeed," Saphira hovered above the trees. "He can be coarse at times, but sometimes that is how we learn best. Now get some sleep, and don't let you conflicting feelings get in the way. You will feel better with some rest and a clear head. Besides, we will be arriving in Ellesmera in the next few days, and I know there's someone there you wish very much to see," Saphira giggled softly, and with that flew up over the trees and landed near the camp, allowing Eragon to silently anticipate seeing Arya once more. _


	3. Reconciliation

Disclaimer: I have no affiliation to Eragon as a book movie or any other way!!!

**Chapter 3**

"_You must try and talk to him. Even if he doesn't fully understand, he has the compassion, the ability to just listen, that I know you desperately need now," Saphira's voice echoed like rain on cavern walls in his mind._

Eragon tried to focus every cell on blocking her begging,…no nagging voice from his restless mind. He tilted his head back, allowing the morning mist to dust his face just slightly, with it's replenishing dew. He inhaled deeply, eyes closed, smelling the faint hint of mildew that was growing on the damp fallen leaves. Slowly, the voice became soft and relaxing, it was no more than a whisper now. Relieved at the respite from Saphira's complaints at his stubborness, and more than relieved at the absence of Brom's bickering, Eragon allowed himself to drift.

The smell of newly cut hay, back home as a boy, with his uncle and cousin by his side. The first time his uncle had taken him out hunting, the sweet pies that the lady on the other side of the village would bring to gatherings. Then, Arya. Oh, how he longed for her. They'd barely spent time together, but the first time she had come to him in a dream, he knew there would be no other. He thought of her eyes, the feverish touch of her hand, when she had been poisoned by the shade, the earthy smell of her hair and the musk of sweat from grueling battle, but another sensation was creeping into his reverie. At first he couldn't place it, then layers of fog and lack of sleep began to peel away like gauze.

He sat strait up in the saddle, suddenly very awake and frantically calling out to Saphira. It wasn't something he had sensed, which had been his first instinct, it was part of the wonderful things he had enjoyed in life. But this wasn't wonderful. It was surrounded by death and pain and loss. The distinct smell of a burning village. _"Ellesmera," was all he managed to call to Saphira before he saw the columns of thick, black smoke rising to the sky._

Even as he quickened his pace to catch up to Brom, who was nearly screaming his name, he called to his dragon and was overwhelmed with joy that she was near and was safe.

"_Little one, you are safe, I worried. Quickly, we must get to them before the fire spreads. It is only a caravan. Ellesmera has not been attacked. Do not let your feelings get in the way of these peoples lives, Eragon. They depend on you."_

"I realize that now, don't worry about me. Just be careful," he replied.

"You be careful," she said warmly.

A residual pang of self-indulgent guilt was still cling to the young rider's heart as he dismounted his horse and took to the sky, yelling a war cry down at Brom and heading for what appeared to be nothing but a small band of thieves. Deadly and dangerous they may be, they were a far cry from the Ra'zac, and he was glad for it. But the city of Ellesmera was not untouchable, even though it was surrounded by powerful magic, for even as this small battle raged, Galbatorix was strengthening his troops, and making final adjustments to his plan to attack the city from it's weakest points.


	4. Unexpected Attack

**Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with the Eragon books or Movie, at all!!! I only wish I did. There are a few characters in this story that are fictional.**

**Chapter 4**

No sooner had Eragon and Saphira touched down, when Brom arrived, sword drawn, an intense loathing piercing his eyes.

"Eragon, help get the civilians to safety!" he yelled. "I can handle this for now, have Saphira take the injured back to the city."

Without hesitation Eragon dismounted adjacent to a burning wagon. Saphira swung her tail, sending embers flying into the Ra'zac and the debris scattering to a safe distance from the rest of the caravan and civilians. Eragon smoothly ducked a flaming chunk of wood and cast aside another to gain access to an elderly woman, pinned under the wheel of a flaming wagon. Using the dragon's aid and a little magic, he had the entire family free and on Saphira's back ready for flight in moments.

"Fly smoothly, Saphira," he reminded.

"_You do not need to tell me such silly things, young one. I will return when they are safe with their clan," she replied, briskly soaring toward the city._

_Brom, who had been holding his own against the Ra'zac and pulling a few more trapped or stranded humans and elves alike was in dire need of help, and quickly becoming overpowered. The young rider felt this, long before his friend came into view, thoughtlessly he began to make his way to the fight. Brom had been pinned underneath a Ra'zac and was just centimeters from still raging flames._

"_Brom, roll to your left so your out of the way," Eragon shouted._

"_Get back to the people, boy, they are you're priority."_

"_No!" he replied stubbornly and repeated his order. _

As Brom rolled to his side Eragon pulled an arrow from his quiver, aimed and pierced the Ra'zac. Brom quickly got up, dusted himself off, and made his way to the troughs for horses, either, leaving or arriving town, in an attempt to deal with the remaining fire. He'd been slightly injured and knew magic would be a risk and had lost sight of Eragon. He could rely only on instinct to squelch the fires. Most of the travelers were now safe and he needed to tend to his wounds, so reluctantly he half walked, half stumbled to the embankment and tried to call to Eragon or Saphira.

Less than five minutes later Eragon and Saphira appeared in the sky above him and with great pain he raised himself to meet the pair, dragon and rider, as they landed only a dragon's tail length from him.

"Brom, you're hurt. Where? We must get you to a healer, I've tired myself with the injured and I have learned what my physical limits are. I won't risk myself and you." His voice wavered slightly as he spoke this last.

"It's nothing serious, my boy, just a tired old man, who can't take as much damage as he once could. Help me onto Saphira. She'll know where to take me." Saphira smiled down at Brom.

"_You're not so old, dragon rider," Saphira comforted._

Eragon helped Brom onto Saphira's saddle and was about to take Brom's spooked horse and meet them at the gates of Ellesmere when they all heard a clamoring from one of the burnt and overturned wagons.

"Did you hear that?" they young rider asked Brom.

"I'm sure it was just the tortured wood settling, my old house used to make that sound all night," he said with a laugh.

Eragon strained to make the final adjustments to secure Brom, who had grown weak, when there was a crash and the _woosh, smack,_ of an arrow hitting it's target. Eragon was nearly to the ground before Saphira caught him on her talon.

"_No! Oh, please no. Stay with me rider. Stay with me. I stayed with you. now you must stay with me." Saphira was horrified._

Brom had gathered his strength and eased his wounded body off the dragon catching a glimpse of someone hiding behind some broken plywood and brush. Grabbing Eragon's bow he shot down the archer where he stood, walked over taking the rest of the arrows with him in case he needed to identify a toxin and pulled himself back onto Saphira.

"Hurry to Ellesmera, before you lose your strength, Saphira," Brom urged, and they flew, Eragon dangling nearly lifeless from his dragon's talons.


	5. One Last Hope

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon, the books, the movie, the characters, or anything else.

Some of the characters in this story may be fictional.

A/N:I am rating this story T for now. To make sure I keep the fan base I have currently I may post an M version, completely separate from this

version, in the event that it may offend some readers. However for now I will stick to a cleaner version. Thanks for the positive feed back.

**Chapter 5**

"_My strength is draining fast, I must hold on. Oh, little one, this is not going to be the end. I won't let it. Why didn't I feel that you were in _

_danger? I should have protected you. I'm so sorry. Please stay with me. Just a little longer"_

Saphira, filled with anguish and hurt glides toward the city of Ellesmera. She can see it now, in the distance, a span that would have taken her just

seconds to cover under usual circumstances. Now it feels like a destination, reachable only in dreams. On her back, she carries Eragon's wounded

trainer, in her talons, she carries her mortally wounded rider, Eragon Shadeslayer. Rapidly her strength weakens and wanes from her rider's pain and

fading life force. Her only desire is to get them safely to the healers of Ellesmera. Her only hope is that it is not already too late.

* * *

"We're almost there Saphira, just a bit longer. I know you can make it," Brom felt the dragon's breathing becoming labored, her typically taught body

growing slack. He closed his eyes and silently began to recite an ancient prayer for those wounded in battle. He had nearly given up hope, feeling the

struggle that the great blue dragon was working so hard to overcome, when he suddenly felt the beast land and nearly fall. Sure that there was no way

he could take the boy on his own, he rested his head against Saphira's trembling body. Then he felt himself being pulled by strong hands down from

the saddle. People all around were speaking the ancient language, almost in a chant. With great effort he opened his eyes, the world spinning, blurry,

and found he was being carried by two strong elves. "Eragon?" he whispered and the world went black.

* * *

Saphira through sheer unwillingness to let the young rider die had made it to the city of Ellesmera. There she gently placed him on a woven cloth that

draped the stairs of the elder's meeting hall and fell with a great crash to her side. Dozens of elves were with her immediately, first lifting the rider, and

then tenderly comforting the ailing dragon. With her last ounce of energy, she gave one last call to her rider.

"_Eragon, you are our last hope for freedom, but this battle is not for your people, this battle is for your life. I will be with you, suffer with _

_you, and lend you my strength. Right now I will share with you the strength of my heart, so that with your will to live we can put this _

_tragedy behind us and allow ourselves to grow closer because of it. I am always with you, Eragon. Now you must fight." _

Her energy finally depleted, Saphira collapsed into the arms of the elves trying desperately to comfort her, and closed her eyes, feeling nothing but

sadness at what she considered was her own failure to protect the one person who still held onto a thin shred of hope.


	6. The Burdens We Carry

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or any thing pertaining to the books, movie or characters.

Some of the characters in this story may be fictional.

**Chapter 6**

Murmurs in the ancient language swirl around in Eragon's mind. He feels confused, unsure of why he is being carried, and barely holding on to

consciousness. He's nearly panicked, and unable to move. He tries to free himself from the restraining hands of those who hold him captive. Are they

friends or enemies? His body won't move. Then there is a face, familiar, but unable to place, a woman. She's calling to him, crying.

"Has there been a battle? Where am I? Where is Saphira?" he is trying to ask, but cannot seem to form the words. He hears the voice in his mind

saying these things, but no one hears. Frustration sets in and he's screaming. Screaming for them to listen. Screaming for someone, anyone to hear.

Then he hears it, like the voice of an angel, a voice of comfort and warmth. Saphira.

* * *

"_Welcome back little one, but do not struggle. You have been injured and are in grave danger. We are in Ellesmera, with the healers. Do _

_you remember anything? Just relax, there will be pain, but I will be there to relieve you of such a heavy burden. I failed to protect you. It is _

_mine to carry now," Saphira has never felt so conflicted. Such feelings of sadness and pain and guilt, but now so many feelings of hope and _

_relief. She will not let him down again. "Just relax and let their magic work, Eragon. Just relax. Do not be afraid. You are in the care of the _

_wise."

* * *

_

She is there with him, the familiar face. Who is she? He can't remember. She speaks in hushed tones, brushes the dirt and sweat from his brow, his

hair from his eyes, and yet her tears fall freely. Are they tears for him, or just tears for the injured? He is so tired, he feels as if every breath is a test of

will, but he won't give up. Somehow he knows that for him to give in to the pain would not only be of cost to him. Weakly the young rider gathers his

remaining strength and draws another breath, and then another. The pain in his chest is nearly unbearable, but he is strong of heart, mind and body,

and if this is a fight he must suffer to win, then that is how it shall be.

* * *

Arya hovers over Eragon's damaged body. She watches anxiously as the arrow is slowly removed from his chest. She can hear his breathing is

labored. Perhaps the shaft has pierced his lung. It had gone through on the right side, missing his heart, but that didn't mean that he wasn't in danger.

She had seen many soldiers fall to wounds much like this, and knew it would take more than magic to heal him. Hesitantly, she leaned down and

placed her soft lips to his fevered forhead.

"You must live Eragon, if not for the chance at victory, you must do it for me," her tears felt cold against his heated skin. With her cheek pressed to

his, she let her bottled emotions go and sobbed for a love she feared she may never have.

"The wound has been cleansed and cauterized," said Nasuada from Arya's side. "It is up to fate and the young rider's will now." Arya thought she

sounded too matter of fact, to crass and uncaring.

"I understand, but he is strong, and fights for much more that himself. Were there any traces of poison or dark magic?" she tried not to convey her

fear.

"It was a clean wound, and the healer's have done their best. It seems that it was just a lucky shot that took him down, not an assassin." With that

Nasuada turned and walked away, as though the fate of the land were not lying on a blood soaked table in front of her. She understood that

sometimes you had to tune out your fears in order to perform your best, but the coldness she felt from Nasuada had been more than anyone should

purvey.

Slowly and carefully, Arya bent down and placed another soft kiss on his forehead. "Rest, dragon rider. Rest Argelam."


End file.
